One day of bliss,
And the cycle turns,
To an era of restlessness,
Not in sorrow
But in the knowledge of that ecstasy
That one has glimpsed, tasted, and is ordained to remember.
Like the barren wife
Of the king’s abode,
Who was thrust to a hermitage
Carrying nothing with her
Bt memories and questions.
And the seeker of truth
Who in the arms of the unity
Of time and the Universe
Glimpses the harmony and order
Before the spell breaks,
The vision disappears;
Like a dream in the hour of awakening
And fantasy into fact.